tentacleface (tentacleface) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-01-16 04:17:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | davy jones |
Who: Davy Jones, open to anyone
What: Davy's first time in beautiful sunny SoCal
Where: Venice Beach
When: Noon, current day
Rating: Unknown
Status: Open
Davy Jones didn't quite understand why he had been saved. More importantly, he didn't quite grasp the concept of one of the God's playing nice. And as he sat there, while sucking on his pipe, he furrowed his brow and coiled his tentacles around each other while he tried again to replay the events that brought him to this very beach.
For starters, he was on a ship-- his ship-- the Flying Dutchman. There was a fight, a man was injured, and somebody stabbed his heart that happened to be conveniently located outside of his body. Then he was at the bottom of the ocean. He remembered standing there, thousands of leagues under the sea, looking up at the vast cyclone of water above him as it gently faded away. He could no longer hear the beating of his heart, as it drifted away in the current. Was he dead? A wave of peace swept over him as for the first time, things made sense. Everything was exactly as it was meant to be.
He knew it was her, saying her final goodbye.
And that was the last time he ever felt her presence. The storm and her presence drifted away, leaving him with the returning sensation that he was, once again, alone. He was physically without his heart, but his heart was now with his true love, the sea. Somehow, he would continue to live. Of course, being suddenly stuck at the bottom of the ocean wasn't exactly the best way to start one's relatively new life.
And for years, the sea trench was his prison. Only the occasional anglerfish to be his friend, or give him light to see the world around him. New ships were born. New wars were raged. New eras began and ended. Technology grew; finally Man grew enough to learn how to explore the deep seas.
Time passed rather fast, all things considered. Before he knew it, he came face to face with research vessel that would bring him out from the crushing depths.
His first breath of air filled him with a renewed spirit. He was alive again. He had the seas again. The entire crew was murdered within an hour of that first breath. Unfortunately, Davy didn't foresee the technology of boats to change as drastically as they had. He was helpless on the seas, unable to steer his way to land or to port or to his ultimate goal: the return of his ship. The ship drifted aimless for months...
Eventually, he landed somewhere on the Pacific Coast, which was truly amazing considering the science of sea currents, winds, and the fact he started somewhere in the Caribbean Ocean.
With the beach only inches from his feet, he counted the number of saved up days he had from missing out on a few decades of day-passes.
He clunked onto the beach, sending wide-eyed children screaming for the dunes.
Time was precious.
He had to find the remains of the Flying Dutchman.